Helianthus Annuus
by TheRockNRollBeauty
Summary: "If Alfred had looked up scientific facts about sunflowers, the least that Ivan could do was return the favor in his own form: through learning the flower's history, symbolism, etymology—" college professor!AU, RusAme.


**Hello all!**

**This is a little AU that I've started writing on tumblr, and I thought I'd share it here. :) Essentially its a human AU were Alfred is a science teacher and Ivan is a kind of linguistics/literature professor. It's kind of just a fluffy little thing I wanted to write, it doesn't really have a plot, but there are a few other drabbles that I've written other than this one. They'll probably be on this sit soon. :) **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Professor Ivan Braginski was sitting at a table in the musky little campus coffee shop, tapping against the wood with a finger and looking over the lecture plan for the day. Midterms were coming up, and Ivan soon had to decided how he exactly wanted to design the test to best assess what his students had learned so far. He sighed and massaged his temples. It was the worst time of the semester for him—entirely busy grading papers and exams and trying to cope with cuts in his salary—<p>

He heard someone call his name and looked up to see someone waving wildly from the end of the line. Ivan smiled, papers and midterms forgotten, and waved back.

Alfred F. Jones, science professor extraordinaire. The large, horn-rimmed glasses perched on his nose make him look like nothing less. Although, he was by no means the typical geeky shut in type of science teacher. He was youthful, vibrant and social, with his own fair share of charm and good looks to boot. And he was intelligent: as great an expert on science and biology as Ivan was on literature and linguistics. And they both took great pride in each of their respective fields.

Alfred was teaching Botany 1A this semester, an introductory course that the young professor simply _raved_ about. Ivan was surprised, as intro courses were normally wastelands of intellect and independent thought. But Alfred just smirked and told him that his students were _special_, and he only thought that because he taught all the "easy" classes that all the stoners and deadheads took. Ivan recommended that Alfred himself read "War and Peace" in its entirety. Then they would be able to talk.

They had a friendly little rivalry. It was one that existed as playful fun between science and liberal arts majors, who split themselves into students of "West" and "East" Campus, a rivalry that often extended to the respective professors. It was careless fun between him and Alfred, with each of them trying to concvince the other of the superiority of their fields. Oftentimes they would try to one-up each other with new pieces of information gleaned from the classes they taught or they subject there were fond of.

Today undoubtedly wouldn't be any different.

"I learned something new today," Alfred commented as he sat down with his whipped chocolate chip mocha. Ivan smiled and sipped at his espresso.

"Oh really? Is Alfred finally deciding to actually _read_ the textbook this semester?"

"Shut up. And no, this was some outside research. I used Wiki."

Ivan sighed and shook his head. Alfred really was a child of the "Internet generation." No wonder he connected so well with the kids he taught.

"Alfred, we encourage students not to use sites like Wikipedia. What example are you sending?"

Alfred snorted into his whipped cream and waved his hand dismissively

"Whatever. Do as I say, not as I do. Anyway—"

Alfred takes a long sip of his frothed coffee before setting it down and continuing.

"I was looking up on sunflowers."

Ivan barely concealed the splutter into his coffee. _Sunflowers_?

Alfred didn't seem to notice Ivan's surprised though, because he licked his lips free of cream and kept talking.

"They're pretty interesting in mathematical sense, actually. The florets of a sunflower are arranged in a spiral pattern. Each floret is oriented towards the next by the golden angle— 137.5 degrees, on approximate, of course—which produces a pattern of interconnecting spirals."

Why would Alfred be talking about sunflowers to him? Unless, he knew—

"Sunflowers don't actually grow towards the sun, you know? The mature flowerheads face east and don't really move at all. Though sometimes the leaves and buds on the young sunflowers do."

Ivan tried to hide the growing heat in his face by taking another sip of his black coffee, still listening intently to Alfred.

"Typically, there are 34 spirals in one and direction and 55 in the other. Sunflowers most commonly grow to heights between 1.5 and 3.5 meters. Ain't that crazy, Ivan?"

Sometimes, Ivan wondered if Alfred was one of those people who had trouble communicating because of his fascination with numbers and scientific formulas. But then he would see Alfred conversing with students and other professors as easily as he worked through complexes of problems and theorems that made Ivan's head spin. He would flash that charming smile, making a clever quip that made even the stodgy professor of British literature crack a grin.

"Yes. It is very interesting, Alfred."

They conversed for a little while longer, exchanging bits and pieces of information and gossip about their students, classes, and contemporaries.

"Oh—fuck!" Alfred exclaimed as he checked the time on his phone, cutting their conversation short, "Sorry, Ivan, I forgot that I have office hours starting at one—"

He gathered up his papers and empty coffee cup, nestling them in one arm as he held out an open palm to Ivan. The older professor smiled and returned Alfred's high five, watching the man as he retreated, snapping his eyes up when he realized that they had traveled a little _lower_.

Ivan quickly turned away back to his coffee to watch as he sloshed the dregs of his espresso around, watching his pensive expression in the surface. His heart had speed up in his chest from that little bit of skin to skin contact with Alfred.

Alfred—he was such a confusing young man. The way he seemed to drop little hints at Ivan, hints that he saw Ivan as more than just a colleague and occasional coffee buddy—

He crushed the styrofoam cup in his hand, working his lip under his teeth.

That sunflower discussion—it _had_ to have been intentional. There wasn't a professor in his department who didn't know of his love for the bright flowers—and certainly sharp little Alfred would have picked up on it.

Ivan couldn't deny that he had developed—_feelings_—for Alfred that he suspected extended far beyond those of mere colleagues. He didn't know quite when it had happened. Ivan had never even suspected that he was gay, despite many lectures from the overly exuberant Gender Studies professor. Though Ivan suspected she had ulterior motives, the way she always pestered Ivan for to let her take a photograph of him. He didn't want to become a victim of her "scrap booking" habit. He'd heard from one of his colleagues, a photography professor, that she was a devil with Photoshop. Ivan shuddered to think what _that_ might entail.

The thought of his feelings for his colleague made Ivan feel nervous. Alfred was young, and though Ivan wasn't _old_ per se, he had a sneaking suspicion that Alfred would still prefer someone the same or similar age as him. And Ivan _knew_ that Alfred was rather popular, especially among the young female students in his classes, who giggled and always hung out after lectures to talk to _Professor Jones. _And why wouldn't he be? Alfred _was_ handsome: with his straw blonde hair and light blue eyes and five-star smile. The way one could just barely see the outlines of his muscles underneath those short-sleeved, collared shirts that he wore everyday—

Ivan got up, gathering his papers and notes in his arm and tossing the crumpled coffee cup into the trash. Now his thoughts would be swimming with Alfred all day—and just because of one silly gesture that had probably meant nothing to the young professor.

That night when he got home Alfred and the "sunflower conversation" had not yet left his mind. He had been debating all day over what it had signified. It hadn't been like their normal banter and sharing of facts, trying to show each other up with their knowledge. The topic of sunflowers seemed too intentional to him. Perhaps he was reading too far into it—but the very chance that it had meant something _more, _that Alfred had meant for it to be a hint made his heart flutter.

Ivan turned on his laptop and brought up the web browser. He typed "sunflower" into the search window. At the very least, Alfred had made him realize that he knew very little about his most favorite of flowers. And if Alfred had looked up scientific facts about sunflowers, the least that Ivan could do was return the favor in his own form: through learning the flower's history, symbolism, etymology—

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><p>Ivan sat in on one of Alfred's lectures the next day, watching him up on the stage on near the front of the hall, gesturing wildly to a large presentation. Alfred was wearing a bright red tie patterned with test tubes and double helixes over his crisp collared shirt that matched his red, white, and blue socks. Ivan was always surprised at how much color and life Alfred could bring to the world of science—a field that Ivan had always found exceptionally dull and mechanical.<p>

Yet, when Alfred made a joke about something as drab as helicase, even Ivan had to laugh along with Alfred's students.

But even Alfred's humor couldn't curb the nerves that arose as the lecture drew to a close. He began to fidget in his seat, starting to go over what he planned to say to Alfred again and again in his head.

After lecture concluded, Ivan waited until all of the students had filed past Alfred, fielding the professors their questions or sometimes just slapping the young man a high five, which Alfred was all too happy to return.

Once all of the students and teaching assistants had filtered out of the room, Alfred began to shuffle his papers and lecture notes together, back turned to Ivan as he approached him from behind, the Russian professor feeling awkward and agitated as he gathered his voice together and spoke.

"_Helianthus annuus._"

Alfred turned a little, looking over his shoulder at Ivan, as if just realizing that he was there.

"What?"

Ivan felt his chest tighten, his nerves on edge as he took a deep breath and continued.

"The genus '_helianthus,' _referring to the Greek god, 'Helios,' who pulled the sun across the sky on a chariot of gold. _Annuus_ refers the yearly bloom of the sunflower."

Alfred set down his papers, turning completely towards Ivan, hands on his hips.

"What are you talkin' about, Ivan?"

He hoped that Alfred would remember the conversation and make the connection before he had to embarrass himself explaining. He was sure, by the feeling of heat on his face, that his cheeks were rather obviously pink.

Ivan stuck his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket as he swallowed and continued.

"T-the sunflower is native to Central America, first domesticated in approximately 2600 BCE. Many peoples of indigenous America used sunflowers to symbolize their own solar deities. The sunflower is the national flower of Russia, Ukraine, and Peru, and the state flower of Kansas—"

Ivan paused, noticing that the distance between him and Alfred had suddenly become a sliver. Yet, he could not stop himself from talking, as he had prepared and recited this speech over and over in his head, the words now tumbling from his mouth like a waterfall—-

"The open face of a sunflower can symbolize many things. Warmth, happiness, haughtiness, longevity, adoration—"

Ivan doesn't finish his speech. The space between the two academics shrunk to nothing as Alfred's hands moved up and settled on Ivan's cheeks. The older man felt his heart stutter in his chest and warning bells go off in his head but then something soft was against his lips and he lost all rational thought. He mouthed the words against Alfred's as they kissed, quotes and facts and stories that are entirely drowned out.

He managed to pull his hands out of his pockets even in his surprise, holding his arms out in apprehension above Alfred's sides, fretting over the possibility of someone seeing them before descending to wrap around his waist, smoothing out the fabric of his pressed shirt.

After a few moments, Ivan pulled back, still remaining close to Alfred so that their breaths could ghost over one another. Alfred's eyes were still closed as he let out a little contented sigh. Ivan pressed his forehead into his colleague's, and finally Alfred opened his eyes and connected them with Ivan's, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Pheromones," Alfred massaged circles into Ivan's cheeks, feeling the heat lingering there, "Dopamine, serotonin: neurotransmitters that stimulate the brain's pleasure center, leading to increased heart rate and blood pressure, loss of appetite, an intense feeling of excitement—"

Alfred's chest rose and fell, his heart beating against his chest like a hummingbird's, his breath quickened and thrilled.

Ivan smirked and ran his fingers through his blonde hair. Alfred and his science. It seemed almost like a defense mechanism to him, the way Alfred had started to babble on. He leaned in, tentatively, and kissed the younger professor again on the nose.

"Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love."

Alfred laughed, poking Ivan in the cheek and cocking his head.

"Who said that, huh? One of your dead poets?"

Ivan resisted the urge to snicker at Alfred's assumption. No, it wasn't from one of his "dead white guys," as Alfred always put it. Ivan had picked out _that_ particular quote for a very specific purpose.

"It was Einstein, I believe," He chuckled as Alfred's eyes widened behind his thick black glasses, "So, one of yours, my friend."

Ivan lets his hands rub over Alfred's lower back, touching a little on the top of his slacks.

"Oh man,"

Did Alfred just lick his lips?

"You talking Einstein to me—oh _dude_," Alfred was blushing, running his thumbs over Ivan's face and—_yes, Alfred was definitely licking his lips this time_.

His own were tingling at this point, seeing Alfred so flushed and even _nervous_, despite his normally carefree and confident exterior. He leaned in to taste Alfred's lips one more time, tightening his hold around the young professor and pulling them closer together.

Ivan wanted to ask Alfred how he knew that the older professor enjoyed sunflowers, wanted to know how long Alfred had been feeling like this, wanted to ask the young man how long he thought this would last given the difficulties of relationships between colleagues—-but for right now he was content to enjoy the little moment in the wide, empty lecture hall.

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><p><strong>Hope you guys liked it! It's really fluffy...:D<strong>


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